


Grey Angel - Chapters 1-4

by finvampire



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Bondage, Forced Prostitution, Human Spike, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Slash, Wing Kink, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 09:32:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7042600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finvampire/pseuds/finvampire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike’s a rebellious punk rocker from an wealthy family, and has everything he could ever dream of…except someone to love, and who loves him back. Dean is a poor young man, abused by the one person he should be able to trust, and forced into prostitution...what’s gonna happen when these two meet?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grey Angel - Chapters 1-4

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is going to be a very dark fic. If you’re not comfortable with that, do not read ;) Commenting is encouraged. :D  
> Beta: ash_carpenter (LJ)  
> Banner by: finvampire aka katsa_db_lover (LJ)  
> Lyrics: ©‘Little Deaths’ by To Die For

 

**Chapter One**

 

His head was hitting the wall with every thrust; he’d tried to soften the blows with his hands, but now they were ruthlessly held behind his back. The other man was slightly shorter than him, but much more heavily built, and there was nothing he could do other than take it all. This was his life now, brutal fucks in some alleyway or blowjobs under the table of some filthy club. At the age of eighteen, he’d done pretty much everything.

It all began when he was sixteen, after his mother passed away. He was living with his stepfather, Ryan, who constantly reminded him how he was living under “his goddamned roof”, and how he had to be thankful and do whatever he was ordered to do. So here he was, doing what he was told, not that he wanted to, but it wasn’t like his opinion mattered much anymore, not after mom’s death. Sometimes when some drunken guy was fucking him raw, or beating him bloody, he drifted away to some far away place, until it was over; that way it felt like someone else was being assaulted – it wasn’t him, this boy who wanted to end his own miserable existence.

**~*~**

It was another ‘glorious’ morning in Deanville, being ushered awake by his stepfather to do his chores before going to ‘work’, which meant selling his body on the streets. He sighed heavily and got up, strolling into the bathroom to take a quick shower. It would have been better to shower after the housework, but he wouldn’t have the time, because then his stepfather would notice and there would be hell to pay afterwards. Dean let himself enjoy the shower for a moment, trying to forget all the bad things in his life and remember the times when he was a child, unaware of the cruel world he was living in. Suddenly he felt tears stinging his eyes as he remembered his mother who had loved him so much and never did anything to hurt him. Dean missed it all, oh so badly, that sometimes he wondered if it was worth it anymore – living. He could remember how it felt to be loved, to be cared for by someone. In his new life, all he ever felt was pain, self loathing and anger. He snapped out of his thoughts when he felt the cold water streaming along his back.

“Dammit....geez...fucking shitty boiler!” he cursed under his breath and gave an angry glance towards the offending machine. They had this little boiler which held only about 150 liters of hot water, and it took hours to warm up. ‘Fucking piece if shit...god I hate my life,’ he thought, starting to dress himself quickly before Ryan came to look for him; he had twenty minutes every morning to get ready and eat before Ryan drove him to ‘work’. When he got home from work, he had to get ready for school. Dean had his special arragment with the teachers and had his own schedule; Ryan had explained to his teachers that he had to work and needed a special schedule. The nature of the work was not mentioned.

**~~*~~**

Spike was sitting in the kitchen, shielding his eyes from the bright sun peeking through the curtains. His mom was making breakfast and singing along with some poofy ass song from the radio. He was in a very bad mood this morning; he’d got himself grounded for two days, as if it was a big deal anyway what he’d done, just having a bit of a fun with the hired help – that’s all, no reason to get their panties in a twist. The family driver was actually rather skilled when it came to blowjobs, not to mention the things he did with his tongue. He was allowed to go to school though; if he missed one more class, he would have to start all over again. It was just that, he didn’t really care. He majored in art and music, dreaming of having his own band some day, but he needed no fuckin’ pansy ass school to learn music.

“William...take your filthy boots off the table and finish your breakfast.” His mom was watching him intently with an annoyed expression on her face.

“Yeah, yeah....bloody ’ell they’re not filthy,” he muttered, but took his feet from the table anyway. It was easier that way – his mother was one persistant lady when she wanted to be.

“Keep your tongue William... or I swear to god I will take some soap to that mouth of yours,” she snapped, glaring at him with her hands on her hips.

“Okay...’m good...ya happy? And stop calling me William...it sounds so poofy...’s Spike, okay?”

“Your name is William...and it’s not ‘poofy’...No child of mine would ever be named Spike...and where did you get that idea anyway?” His mom looked offended, as if he’d pretty much trashed the whole family name.

“Pfff...to hell with this..’m going to school...see ya.” He jumped up before his mother could react and strolled from the room. He had no intention of going to school; he was going to check what was going on at his favorite place in town, the club called ‘Xan’s Haven’. Spike wasn’t really old enough to get in there, but as the owner was one of his best friends it didn’t matter. He had been fourteen when he’d realised that he liked men, and that place was crawling with them: it was a gay club. Spike was rather popular due to his good looks; he had short curly hair, which he dyed blond and gelled down, and pretty blue eyes, his body was lean and muscular, clothes hugging his frame in all the right places. Spike loved dark, tall, and pretty men, preferably subs because he wouldn’t bottom for anyone, or at least there had never been anyone yet he would even considered bottoming for.

As he was turning the corner, he bumped into something solid and when he looked up he saw these green eyes with ridiculously long lashes staring right back at him. Spike was dumbfounded for a second, mesmerised by this beautiful vision in front of him, but finally got his voice back.

“‘m sorry, luv...should’ve watched where I was going,” he said, gaze travelling up and down the other man’s body appreciatively. ‘Fuckin’ell, he’s hot!’ Spike felt his cock starting to take notice as the pretty boy in front of him spoke in low voice, sending shivers all over his body.

“It’s okay...was my fault as well as yours...but I’m sorry...gotta run.” With that, the other boy was gone, leaving Spike as hard as a rock, and wondering what the hell had hit him.

****************

 

“Can't find a reason you should respect in me  
you're happy when you get me on my knees  
hate me, hurt me, kill me  
do whatever you want  
why should I care?  
I'm not the one who'll lose  
I'm not the one who surrenders  
I am what I am  
is it so hard to understand?  
I'm the king on my land  
hate me, hurt me, kill me  
think about me what you want  
you cannot trample me under your feet.  
Hurt me once hurt me twice  
I'm not the one who cries  
Later it's you who feels pain  
Kill me once kill me twice  
I'm not the one who dies  
My life is full of little deaths  
I will be born again.”

 

**Chapter Two**

 

He stared at the kid’s retreating back for a long moment - that one was definitely a pretty one, with his plump lips and long spread of lashes. Spike couldn’t get the bright green of the his eyes out of his head, and it wasn’t like he’d even stared into them longer than a second; there was something in that look, something dark and vulnerable – he could see this young guy had been through a lot, and he intended to find out what. He wanted to help him? That really sounded odd; he didn’t know if something was even wrong, but he just had the feeling, and damn if he wasn’t going to follow it! This might be his chance to get to know him, and maybe make someone’s life better while he was at it. Spike waited for the kid to cross the street and headed after him, keeping his distance so that he wouldn’t look too obvious.

The guy stopped at one of the streets which had a dangerous reputation, from drug dealing to prostitution, and was suddenly talking with someone. It was another guy, who Spike hadn’t spotted first because he was standing out of sight, in the shadows. They seemed to be arguing about something, and the other guy yanked the younger one up by his shirt, spitting words into his face. The poor lad looked terrified, and no wonder – the other one was even taller than the kid, and the kid was definitely a tall one: about 6’1. The bigger man was up to 6’4 and very muscular, in a lean way. Spike could hear the kid squeak out the name ‘Sam’, before the taller man’s fist connected with his jaw. The young man lost his balance and fell down, hitting his head on the concrete wall.

‘Bloody’ell! That’s it! ‘m gonna hurt that guy, badly,’ Spike mumbled under his breath, and stepped out of the shadows so that the guy could see him. ‘Sam’ stared at him for a moment and fled, leaving the kid lying on the ground, unconscious. Spike knelt down beside the young man; he was a beautiful boy with his long, dark lashes resting on his cheeks, and dark blonde hair with golden tips, and what about that mouth? Bleedin’ell! Spike had to be careful or he’d end up molesting the lad. After checking his injuries, Spike hauled him up and started to drag him towards his house. Mum wouldn’t be overjoyed, but that couldn’t be helped; he wanted to ‘save’ the kid, honestly, with no hidden agenda…although IF something were to happen, it would definitely be a plus.

 

**~~*~~**

 

“What....what happened? Who is that boy? William!” his mum shouted after him when he stumbled inside, dragging the guy along with him up the stairs and into his room. He was still unconsious, and the wound on his head had started bleeding. Spike stared at him for a moment; he definitely looked good enough on his bed, surrounded with black silk. Finally he snapped out of it and ran downstairs in search of bandages and something to clean the wound with. His mum was standing at the bottom of the stairs with a questioning look.

“What? He’s a friend...some guys beat him up and.....he couldn’t go home you see...so I brought him here,” Spike explained, hoping that his mum would buy it.

“Why? I mean...why he couldn’t go home?” she asked; she looked suspicious and kept glancing upstairs.

“Well....bloody ’ell, he’s unconsious, that’s why...and stop that...he ain’t gonna steal anything!” Spike said angrily and glared at his mother.

“You could have called someone...his parents maybe?” his mum started.

“No! I couldn’t.....and that’s it...it ain’t ya business anyway....fuckin’ ’ell!” Spike was shouting now; he was beyond annoyed with his mum and strolled off towrads the kitchen, ignoring her angry voice calling him back.

He found the bandages and the peroxide for cleaning the wound. When he got back to his room, the bed was empty. Spike stood there for a moment with his mouth open. There were no sign of the other guy anywhere in the room. Spike was about to go looking for him, when he heard a noise from the bathroom connected with his bedroom. It was a sound of something breaking, followed with a rather loud yelp. Spike snickered and knocked on the door.

“Are you okay in there?” he asked, leaning towards the door and pressing his ear against it.

“I...yes...where am I?” a small voice answered.

“You’re at my house...you were hurt...so I brought you here…’m Spike...what’s your name, pet?”

There was no answer.

“Pet?”

“De....it’s Dean....” the answer came finally, and the door opened suddenly, leaving Spike nose to nose with the most beautiful person he’d seen in his life. ‘Bugger... ‘m so going to be in trouble,’ he thought, backing up a bit so that Dean could get past him. He moved gracefully, like a cat, and he had the most delicious backside. ‘Stop it you pervert...he’s hurt’ Spike slapped himself mentally and followed Dean, who was sitting on his bed, head bowed down and twisting his fingers nervously. He looked cute and Spike felt his heart swelling in his chest. Something in his pants was taking notice too, and he had to will it away before it would get him in trouble.

“So....are you hungry, pet?” Spike asked, clearing his throat.

“No...thank you...for everything...but, I really must be going now,” Dean mumbled, standing up.

“Why? No...please...you’re hurt...just rest here for a while, okay? Please?” Spike pleaded.

Dean looked tired and could hardly stand on his own; Spike shouldn’t let him leave, not yet.

“Okay...thank you,” Dean sighed. He was as stiff as a board and looked frightened. Spike didn’t know what to do. ‘He looks so scared...as if he thinks ‘m going to hurt him if he doesn’t do what I say.’

“It’s okay...you don’t have to...but I think it would be better...you can hardly stand,” Spike tried to reason with him.

“Yeah...okay...thank you,” Dean whispered and glanced at Spike behind his long lashes.

‘Bloody ’ell...he’s going to kill me,’ Spike whined internally when he felt his cock stirring in interest.

 

**Chapter Three**  
  


Eventually, Spike ended up sleeping on the couch, as he’d given his bed to Dean. He’d almost fallen on his face when Dean started to undress right in front of him, oblivious to Spike’s discomfort, which was mostly located in his pants. God, that guy was gorgeous, all lean and smooth muscle, skin as golden as an early morning sunrise, looking silky soft. Spike’s fingers itched to touch it, to run his hands along Dean’s back, all the way to the curve of his perfect ass.  
  
Fortunately, he’d been able to gather himself before Dean turned around to see what was causing such a rattle; Spike just stood there with a huge grin on his face and muttered, “Bloody carpet, always in the way,” and fled before Dean could say anything. Spike couldn’t understand what was going on with him; he’d never been this far gone in such a short time, but he felt like there was something special to be found in Dean and he wanted to be the one to find it. He also knew that something was wrong with the other boy, almost like there wasn’t any ‘fight’ left in him, like he’d given up or something. Spike just had to find out more about his mystery guest, like where he lived, with whom, and what had that fight been about earlier, with ‘Sam’? And who was ‘Sam’ anyway?  


**~~*~~**  


Dean was still asleep the next morning when Spike strolled into his room to rummage through his closet for something to wear. He didn’t get far though; he was mesmerised by the sight spread accross his bed, sheets tangled around his narrow hips; Dean looked like the sin itself. The other end of the sheet was slightly lower, revealing half of his perfectly shaped ass. Great! The guy slept naked; Spike had to breath deep a couple of times before he turned towards his closet again. ‘That just ain’t right...if he keeps that up I’m not responsible for my actions,’ he growled in his head. After deciding to wear a white t-shirt and a pair of black leather pants he left the room quietly, careful not to disturb Dean.  


**~~*~~**  
  


Spike was already in front of the stove, making pancakes, when his mother entered the kitchen. She looked surprised to find her son making breakfast; she’d never seen it happen before. Spike frowned at his mother when he noticed she was staring; he knew it might have looked a bit odd, him making pancakes, but he’d just felt like it, and Dean might be hungry when he woke up. Not that he’d made’em for him particularly, no.  
  
“Darling, what’s going on? I mean....what’s gotten into you?” his mom asked softly, smiling a little when she noticed Spike’s obvious discomfort about the subject.  
  
“Nothing...what do you mean? Can’t I make breakfast without you giving me a third-degree?” Spike shrugged, turning back to his task at hand. Why did she have to be so nosy? There was nothing going on, right? He was just helping a poor lad to get his strength back, and then he would send him on his way, of course.  
  
His mom had just opened her mouth to ask another question when Dean strolled into the kitchen, leaving her jaw open in surprise. He walked to the table and sat down, peering at Spike’s mom through his thick lashes – he looked so adorable that Diane felt her heart swell at the sight. She had never seen such a beautiful boy…well, except her son. The boy looked like an angel, if there were such creatures. She hadn’t seen the boy earlier when Spike brought him home, and had been angry to him for bringing strangers to her house, but now, when she looked at him, she knew he would never do anything to hurt them. Suddenly she had an giant urge to protect the boy.  
  
“Good morning,” she greeted Dean when he just stared at her, probably trying to figure out what to say.  
  
“Morning, ma’am,” he answered in a small voice, looking scared and twitching his shirt sleeve in his fingers.  
  
“Are you feeling better? You were in such a bad shape yesterday, luv.” She kept her voice soft, as if she was talking to a much younger child; she’d noticed that Dean was really terrified of his surroundings at the moment – she really wanted to know where he came from and where he lived. Diane knew he was from a poor side of the town – she could tell from his clothes and the way he kept his eyes down when she spoke to him.  
  
“Yes...thank you, ma’am,” he answered again, keeping his gaze on his toes. All he wanted to do was run; these people were better than him and would be angry when they found out what a worthless waste of space he really was. Dean had dealt with rich people before; they wanted to hurt people like him. The last encounter he’d had with a wealthy person almost cost him his life – he’d only managed to escape because of the police car which happened to drive by.  
  
“Well...that’s good, luv...So...do you want something to drink? William’s making pancakes for breakfast, but you can have what ever you want, okay?” She smiled at him and leaned towards him to ruffle his hair. She was surprised when she felt him flinch violently as her hand touched him. This boy had definitely been hurt by someone. She sighed inwardly and walked to the fridge to get something to drink. She wanted to help the boy, but knew it would be difficult – he was living in a very different world and, by the look of things, it was a cruel one.  
  
Spike stepped up to the table, plate full of pancakes, and grinned widely at his mom’s amused expression; he wouldn’t let her embarrass him this time. Dean looked up also, smiling a faint smile as Spike flipped two pancakes on his plate and offered him honey and jam to choose from. Dean chose jam and as he was taking hold of the jar his hand brushed Spike’s, sending jolts of electricity through his body. He grabbed the jar quickly and muttered a silent ‘thank you’, blushing fiercely when Spike waggled his eyebrows and gave him a smile full of promises – promises of what, Dean didn’t know.  
  
‘If he keeps looking at me like that, ’m gonna bloody explode from frustration and repressed sexual energy....but I can’t just jump him, can I? He seems so shy, and kinda scared?’ Spike spaced out for a second. When he came around, he found Dean glancing at him curiously from under his lashes. Spike wanted nothing more than to devour him, to kiss every part of his body until he prayed for mercy.  
  


**~****~**  
  


Dean was still weak from the blow to his head and Spike had all but pleaded for him to stay for another night, just to be sure that he was okay. So he did, but was terrified of having to stay alone in the giant house while Spike was at school and his dad at work – Diane had to go and grab some stuff from the supermarket. Dean wasn’t used to this kind of setting – the house was full of expensive art and everything in else which he had never even dreamed of seeing. Everything felt so alien to him, like a whole new world had opened up in front of him, just to mock him, to show him the life he couldn’t have. As Dean sat down on the big couch dividing the room when Spike left, all the fear and desperation he’d been feeling for most of his life came pouring over him in a giant wave. Dean broke down into violent sobs – he was so alone.

 

 

**Chapter Four**  
  
_'Broken’_  


 

When Spike returned from school later that day, Dean was nowhere to be found. It made him feel things he wasn’t ready to admit, even to himself. It made him feel empty, and lost, like his very heart was being ripped from his chest. How could you feel something like that after such a short time? Spike couldn’t sleep the following night, his head was filled with images of startling green eyes and the beautiful bow of pink lips.  
  
He was afraid that something could have happened to the other boy. Dean lived in such a poor conditions, his life was full of dangers, and Spike wanted to do everything in his power to prevent anything bad happening to Dean ever again.  


 

~~(*)~~  


 

The morning came. Spike stalked down quietly, not wanting to wake up his family. He stood there in middle of the kitchen floor for a while, unable to move. Spike didn’t know where Dean lived, just that he hung around on the streets a lot. He didn’t want to know the nature of the activities the other boy was hanging around on the street for though.  
  
Every time he even tried to speculate on the issue, he got so jealous that it threatened to tear him apart. He knew the reason of course; it was obvious enough. Dean was a very beautiful young guy, just the type for old perverts who got off on hurting something so pretty. Spike felt sick when gory images took shape in his mind. He had to find Dean, even if it was just for his own peace of mind.  
Spike grabbed a little piece of paper from the kitchen drawer and scribbled down a short note for his mom.  
  
  
  


 

 

Scanning through the note once more, he left it leaning against the vase on the table and ran out of the house. He knew his mom would probably be furious when he got back, but he didn’t care. Dean was the only thing on his mind at that moment, as the clenching of his heart made his breathing shallow and the fear in his mind grew along with every step he took.  
  
What was this feeling he was experiencing? It was like he was suffocating or something. He didn’t have the time to dwell on it any longer though. He was going to make Dean come back with him, and when he did, he’d never let him go again. Spike didn’t notice the possessive direction which his thoughts were taking.  


 

**~~(*)~~**  
  


His back hit the cold tiles as he kept his eyes on his client. The guy was tall and broad, with day-old stubble on his chin. He approached Dean with a dark look in his eyes, like a predator stalking its helpless prey. Dean shivered all over when the panic took over his body. He moved forward, about to flee, but his client wouldn’t have any of that. Dean found himself manhandled around and pushed against the hard wall. He felt a hot breath ghosting over his cheek and a knee shoved roughly between his thighs. The guy whispered all kinds of filthy things in his ear, while biting hard on the side of his neck.  
  
Dean cried out in pain and tried to buck the guy off, but only got pinned down harder. The situation was getting threatening and Dean was scared for his life now. He was spun around once again and forced on his knees, his eyes level with the guy’s crotch.  
  
“Suck it baby,” the guy growled in a coarse voice and grabbed the back of Dean’s head, pressing his nose against the rough fabric of his jeans. Dean did what he was told, hoping to get it over with as quickly as possible. He dragged the zipper down, and eased the pants down a bit. The guy was already hard as stone and Dean took him in hand, jerking him for a while before taking him in his mouth as far as he could. He felt the gagging effect threaten to take place, but managed to keep it under control. After a few seconds the guy came hard, spilling all over Dean’s face and lips.  
  
“Mmmm...Such a good little whore....Your damn lips, God!” the guy muttered incoherently. He made Dean lick him clean before tucking himself back into his pants.  
  
“Come’ere, I want to taste those cocksucking lips,” he rumbled, pulling Dean against him in a savage kiss. He bit down on the soft flesh of the lower lip and sucked it in his mouth. Finally, he let go and with a content smirk on his face paid Dean for his efforts.  
  
Once more, Dean picked up the few bills, which were thrown down on the dirty floor. Piece by piece his soul was shattering , a bit more every day. Soon, he would be beyond repair.  
  


**~~(*)~~**  


 

No-one, except the dark shadow hiding in the alley; noticed a young man, walking alone, his clothes torn, and tears running down the soft skin of his cheeks. The dark eyes followed the boy, until he disappeared around the corner. His ‘Grey angel’ was broken and he wanted to kill the man who was responsible of such a crime. Once, his angel had been as innocent as the angels in heaven, but the world had stained his feathers. No-one saw the beautiful grey wings on the boys back, no-one but the man with dark eyes.  
  
Those wings were ragged and grey, but the feathers still had a faint glow as the light tried to find its way through the dark. Once, those wings had been white and his soul pure. The light in the green eyes had dimmed as well and the color paled into a duller shade of the once so striking color.  
  
But no worries, he would take vengeance against the evil and purify the soul of his ‘Grey angel’, so that he would be whole again. He would start with the one who called himself a ‘father’.

 

TBC...?


End file.
